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She wore a fancy silver-sequined dress and high heels, and she had a ton of make-up on her face. "I'm ready to go," she said. She stopped when she saw Drew. "Where's Patrick? We have to get to the dance."
"Uh, he must be changing," Drew replied, never sure how to talk to his grandmother when she was not herself.
"And he used to say I was the slow one," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table. "What are you doing here, Drew?"
The fact that she recognized him made him feel marginally better. Despite the odd outfit, maybe she could have a normal conversation.
"I came to help Grandpa fix the car."
"Is it broken?" she asked.
"Yeah, little bit. Can I get you something to eat?"
"I'm sure there will be food at the party. The Waltons throw the most beautiful dinner parties."
He'd never heard of the Waltons. "Well, maybe you'd like a sandwich now, just in case dinner is late."
"That might be nice. I am hungry. I don't think I've eaten in a while. Maybe some toast," she said.
"Coming right up."
He popped two pieces of bread in the toaster. His grandmother picked up the newspaper lying on the table and let out a small gasp. She put a hand to her heart.
"Oh, dear. Oh, dear," she said.
He walked around the table to see what she was looking at. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer him, just stared at the picture.
He read the headline for the article, "Winthrop Building Gets A Second Life". An artist's rendering of a new skyscraper by the Embarcadero accompanied the article. "Winthrop," he murmured, the name sounding familiar. "Wasn't that where there was a big fire in the late seventies?"
"They're going to build it again," she murmured. "They can't do that." She looked up at Drew, panic in her blue eyes. She grabbed his arm. "They can't do that. You can't let them. Not after all this time. People will find out."
"Find out what?" he asked in confusion.
"All the secrets," she hissed. She jumped to her feet and started backing away from him.
He took a step forward, but she put up her hand. "Stay away from me. You stay away from me. I'm not going to tell you. I promised."
The kitchen door opened, and his grandfather strode in. "What's going on?"
"He knows about the Winthrop building," she said to Patrick. "He could tell everyone."
"That's Drew, honey, your grandson," Patrick said in a rough but soothing voice. "Let me take you into the living room. We'll sit down and have some tea."
"Oh, okay," she mumbled, as Patrick led her out of the kitchen.
Drew took a breath and then slowly let it out. What the hell had just happened?
His grandfather came back into the room a moment later. "You should go home, Drew."
"What was that about?"
"I don't know," he said wearily. "It's something new every day."
He could see that his grandfather was at the end of his rope, but his vague answer bothered him. "She was reading the newspaper, and she just freaked out. Started talking about the Winthrop building."
"They're rebuilding it, I guess," Patrick said. "I saw it on the news the other day."
"Why would that upset Grandma?"
"We lost two firefighters when that building went down. Your grandmother knew one of the wives. She was distraught for days. We all were. It was a long time ago, but for some reason your grandmother seems to remember things from thirty years ago but can't recall what happened ten minutes ago."
"We need to get you more help," Drew said. "You can't do this alone."
"Your dad doesn't want me to put her in a facility."
"Then he needs to help you figure out a better way to take care of her."
"We're doing okay most days."
He gave his grandfather a disbelieving look. "I just finished cleaning the kitchen, and before she got upset, she told me you were going to a dinner party. It's the middle of the day, and she's wearing a sequined gown. That's not doing okay."
Patrick shrugged. "Thanks for coming over. I'll just take the car to a mechanic."
"That you don't have to do. I can fix the car. I just need to run down to the auto shop and pick up a part. I'll be back in a few minutes."
